An Open Letter

I’d like to address this open letter to anyone who owns and/or rides an excessively loud motorbike.

Oftentimes, when I’m pottering about a public space and taking in the sights, I wish the ambiance could be punctuated by an enormous, rattling motorbike exhaust. I like that exhaust so damn deep and gargly that it gets right up in my throat through my ear drums. That “fuck off if you don’t like it” brand of engine that really turns heads. In the same vein as those that drive ‘modified’ Subaru Imprezas with crude holes smashed through the exhaust pipe, these guys succeed in drawing my uncompromised attention as they pass.

My favourite’s when bikers rag it through residential areas at night, just to let you know that they’re there. Otherwise it can be quite a worrying time, night-time. You can’t see any bikers, because it’s dark. So it’s reassuring to know that they’re safe, and most of all that their bikes are still exceptionally loud. We’ve all had nights that start so promisingly turn out to be ruined by a lack of motorbike noises. This is always a real relief for me.

It sums up all the problems I have with today’s society that not every single person in the world has a loud motorbike. The streets could be alive with sweet, madrigal motor harmony, 24/7; a global gargle, if you will. And with these God-awful politicians in charge, you can bet we’ll get no closer to this utopian ideal. Bloody philanderers.

So, if you do have a Harley Davidson, or Kawasaki Ninja, or any loud adult’s bike toy, please rev it right up close to my fucking ear drum, as loud as you possibly can. Especially in quiet, tender moments, because I fucking love it. I love to have your mid-life crisis non-consensually thrusted upon me and my loved ones.